


Crown You in My Heart

by IneffableFangirl_writes



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Gingerhaloe, Inspired by "Crown You In My Heart", M/M, Pillow Principality, polaroids, service top Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25672111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableFangirl_writes/pseuds/IneffableFangirl_writes
Summary: Inspired by GingerHaloe's Polaroids "Crown You in My Heart"Crowley is the MOST Service Top.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 66





	Crown You in My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Polaroids](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20531924) by [gingerhaole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerhaole/pseuds/gingerhaole). 



There was a bruise peeking out from behind the pristine white collar of Aziraphale’s shirt. Just the edge of one, yellow-green and a few days into healing. Crowley wouldn’t have noticed except Aziraphale tugged at his waistcoat and that few centimeters bared the mark to the light. His eyes locked onto the mark and when Aziraphale finished dealing with the customer, Crowley stalked over and slithered up beside him, chin resting on the angel’s shoulder.

“Aziraphale,” he purred, “What...is that?”

The angel started a little, surprised.

“I’m not sure to what you are referring, my dear.”

“The bruise on your neck...is that from Sunday evening?”

A blush, rosy and warm, crept up his neck and onto those plump, pale cheeks. 

“It’s possible.”

“Is it, now? And if it were...possible...why would it still be there? Are you not able to heal your body?”

“I’m quite capable of healing my corporation, dear boy. Nothing to worry about.”

“Angel, are you keeping my mark on you?”

Aziraphale shuddered, eyes fluttering shut for a fraction of a second. 

“You are, aren’t you?” Crowley purred. “You like having proof that you’re mine on your skin.”

Aziraphale swallowed and Crowley’s sultry smile broadened into a full grin, the very same grin the first cat with the first canary had displayed down to the sharp eyeteeth. 

“Now Crowley,” Aziraphale began, but the serpent used one finger to tug Aziraphale’s collar a little lower and pressed a kiss to the bruise, nipping it just a little with his teeth to freshen it up. 

The noise Aziraphale made was somewhere between a whimper and a sigh and it struck Crowley and resonated through him like a tuning fork. How was it possible that such a small sound could affect him this powerfully? Humming low, Crowley pressed another kiss to the bruise, this time flicking his tongue over it to taste the salt on his angel’s skin. Aziraphale tilted his chin up a few centimetres and his eyes fluttered shut. He was only brought out of it by the ring of the bell on the shop door.

Crowley scowled towards the door and leaned over to murmur instructions into Aziraphale’s ear.

“Wake me up with you’re done for the day. I’ve got a surprise for you tonight.” The air tickled Aziraphale’s cheek and he shivered pleasantly, leaning over to steal a kiss before Crowley slunk away to the couch in the back of the shop where he did an astonishing amount of sleeping. 

“Of course, my dear.”

Business at the shop was slow, but only through some real effort on his part. It was apparently a day for tourists to browse through. Very few seemed interested in buying books, thank goodness, but their very presence meant he had to wait for whatever Crowley had in store for him. 

He was certain he would like it. Now that Armageddon had become Armageddon’t and they could fraternize to their hearts’ content, Crowley was proving to be a thoughtful and generous lover. He took pleasure in doting on Aziraphale, spoiling him with good food and wine, strolls in the park, tickets to the theatre, and lovemaking that varied from tender enough to nearly make him cry to intense and passionate enough to make him scream. He could honestly say that he had never been happier. 

As far as surprises went, Crowley had a gift of finding things or activities that would delight him and he tried not to get too excited lest the time seem to go slower. He was marginally successful and closed an hour early, busying himself with tidying the shop before he made his way to the back of the shop where Crowley lay on the couch, half-dozing with one hand on his mobile phone, which sat on his chest. Aziraphale swelled with love and gently brushed the demon’s cheek with one finger.

“Stop that,” Crowley said, but didn’t mean. “I can feel you glowing from here.”

Aziraphale knew he didn’t mean it and instead, ran a finger through Crowley’s red hair, scratching the scalp with his perfectly manicured nails. The demon arched up and purred a little, much like a cat.

“If you keep doing that,” he said muzzily, “We won’t be able to go anywhere. You’ll put me right back to sleep.”

“If that’s what you’d like, dear, I’d be happy to sit here all night.”

“You really would, wouldn’t you?” Crowley sighed. 

“I would,” Aziraphale agreed and Crowley let his hair be stroked another few moments before he sat up.

“I’ve got reservations, so go get dressed.”

“Where are we going?”

“New place,” Crowley grunted, using a demonic miracle to get his hair back into the style he preferred. He used his phone as a mirror and inspected the sides and back. 

“Vanity is a sin, you know.”

“So are gluttony and lust,” Crowley hissed, peering at Aziraphale over the frames of his sunglasses. “And I intend to treat you to both.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale blushed and Crowley shooed him off.

“Go on. Fancy dress, maybe that coat you like with the tails?”

“Oh and my good silk handkerchiefs,” Aziraphale said thoughtfully, already walking towards the stairs that went up to his flat. Crowley waited until he was gone to smile, not a smirk or even a demonic leer, but a proper smile, wide and warm and open. The privilege of loving the most incredible being in existence sometimes caught him completely unaware. It felt a bit too much like vulnerability for him to do it in the presence of another being. He was still learning to be soft for Aziraphale--he had never been soft before, not in the way that Aziraphale was, with love pouring out of him. He wasn’t sure if he was even capable of that. But he was learning to show himself to his angel, to be known in bits and pieces, in all the terror and fear of showing another being the places where you had no armor. He was trying. 

Aziraphale took nearly half an hour to get dressed, but Crowley didn’t mind. He was used to waiting for his angel, and the results were always worth the wait. This time was no exception. When Aziraphale reappeared, his curls were combed and neatly arranged, his suit was pressed, a cream-colored coat, waistcoat, and trousers with beautifully polished leather shoes with touches of blue in his pocket handkerchief, the lining of his coat, and in the stone on his pocket-watch. He looked every bit the gentleman and Crowley stood, circling him to inspect the angel from all angles.

“I have a request,” he said, tugging at Aziraphale’s collar to view the bruise.

“What is it?”

“Heal any of the marks you have left.”

The angel pouted a little.

“It’s my corporation, dear boy. I do think I should be allowed to keep any decorations or marks that I wish to.”

“Of course you may,” Crowley agreed lowly. “But I’d like to start the evening with a clean slate and mark it as I see fit.”

The bruise vanished immediately and Aziraphale tried very hard not to look overly eager. He failed rather miserably but Crowley didn’t point it out.

Dinner was at a French restaurant that had opened recently and the food was excellent. Crowley ordered a bottle of wine that paired perfectly with the dish that Aziraphale ordered and spent most of the meal sipping his wine and watching the angel delicately make his way through an appetizer, soup, main dish, and dessert. His sunglasses remained on, but Aziraphale could feel his lover’s gaze on him all evening. Once the angel announced that he couldn’t possibly eat another bite, Crowley gestured for the check and paid with a sleek black credit card while Aziraphale fussed with his waistcoat, making sure it hadn’t wrinkled. 

Crowley escorted Aziraphale from the restaurant and to the Bentley, which he drove into London rather than back towards his flat. He refused valet parking at the Royal Opera House and parked himself--the only attendee who had ever been allowed to do so. They had a private box and once they were seated, Crowley pulled a pair of opera glasses from his coat pocket and offered them to his angel.

“I don’t really need them, but it doesn’t feel like the opera without,” Aziraphale explained as he happily accepted the gift and spent half the opera looking through the glasses even though he could have easily seen everything without. Crowley rested a hand on his angel’s knee and spent most of the opera watching Aziraphale rather than the stage, though he did pretend to be interested in the opera when Aziraphale turned to ask him something or make a remark on the production. 

After it was over, he once again offered the angel his arm and led him back to the Bentley. The car played Queen’s cover of Beethoven’s Greatest Hits on the way back to Crowley’s flat and once he parked his car and took his angel upstairs, he paused for a moment to take in Aziraphale in all his splendor before he slipped off his sunglasses and placed them on a side table. He looked again afterwards, admiring the angel without the tinted lenses filtering the light and found him just as perfect as he had been moments before. 

“I’m going to unwrap you, angel.”

His voice was a low rasp and Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered shut as he sighed, placing his hands on Crowley’s slender waist. He began with the coat, removing it and folding it before placing it on his desk. Then the waistcoat, undoing each button slowly, reverently. The shirt came next, then shoes and trousers. Socks and underthings after that until Aziraphale was standing before him completely nude. 

“You’re beautiful, angel,” he said hoarsely. “I’m going to do such things to you.”

“Yes, Crowley,” the angel sighed and Crowley kissed him. He kissed him thoroughly as he stripped off his own clothes, these discarded much more haphazardly than Aziraphale’s, and he backed them slowly towards the throne in his office until he could sit and pull the angel into his lap. 

He started at Aziraphale’s throat, kissing and licking with a scrape of teeth here and there before he seized his wrists one at a time and pressed kisses from palm to the crease of the elbow. The chest next, down to his navel and then the thighs, now a bit freer with the use of his teeth. He didn’t touch Aziraphale’s effort, though it was already flushed and standing ready. Instead, he reached down between his angel’s legs and began massaging his balls, letting his hand tease at Aziraphale’s perineum. 

“Do you like this, angel?” He purred into Aziraphale’s ear. He gave the lobe a little tug with his teeth for emphasis and Aziraphale tiled his head back, exposing his throat as he sighed a, ‘yes’. 

“I’m going to take you apart so slowly,” Crowley promised, sucking a bruise in the exact place on his neck that he had so admired earlier in the day. “Going to put my marks all over you.”

A full-body shudder accompanied the promise and Aziraphale canted his hips towards Crowley, asking and offering. 

“Not yet, angel. I will, but not yet.”

‘Not yet’ took about an hour before he began to stroke Aziraphale in earnest, miracling away the mess when he came for the first time. Crowley miracled a bit of lubricant onto his fingers and began slowly stretching out Aziraphale’s arse, readying him for Crowley. The angel was already whimpering quietly, asking for another orgasm.

“In a moment, love,” Crowley soothed. “Don’t I always take care of you?”

Aziraphale nuzzled Crowley’s neck, inhaling the scent of his demon as Crowley sucked another bruise onto his collarbone and crooked his finger at just the right place so Aziraphale came again.

“There you are,” he crooned, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale’s neck and working his way up to his mouth. He still tasted faintly of wine and cocoa and the way his whole body swayed towards Crowley like iron filings toward a magnet, like Crowley was his center and his compass made the demon’s whole body ache with need so he placed his hands on the angel’s hips.

“Sit down, love. Let me fill you.”

Aziraphale lowered himself slowly, sighing with relief as Crowley filled him, his cock pressing hotly against the inside of him.

“Yes, Crowley,” he sighed. “There.”

Buried deep in his lover, Crowley took advantage of his snakelike attributes and folded himself nearly in half, taking Aziraphale’s member into his mouth and sucking. His tongue wrapped around the base and pulled a little before unwinding to flick over the tip, tasting the remains of his spend and the pre-ejaculate beading at the slit. The angel made a low noise in his throat, almost a moan.

“Crowley,” he whispered.

It was hard to talk with his mouth full, so Crowley pulled off of his lover’s cock to answer.

“What is it, love?”

“Mark me,” Aziraphale whispered. “Please.”

“Of course,” Crowley sunk his teeth into the angel’s fleshy thigh and sucked a bruise into place before moving to his belly, then his chest. He could feel Aziraphale hard against his slim belly and ignored it in favor of stroking his back, his neck, his sides, his thighs, his arse where Crowley was still buried. All the while he found particularly pleasing patches of skin and marked them, biting or sucking or both to leave marks on his angel, proof that this being belonged to him. 

When Aziraphale was no longer able to offer any words, only shallow panting interspersed with whimpers or moans, Crowley lowered his hips and raised them again, pressing the head of his cock against Aziraphale’s prostate. The angel’s punched-out moan only spurred him on, and he worked himself into a rhythm, attaching his mouth to a place on Aziraphale’s neck and sucking, occasionally allowing himself the pleasure of biting down gently and feeling the angel shudder. 

Aziraphale’s hands ran over him, finally settling on his back where manicured nails dug deep into the skin, leaving long red scratches as Crowley fucked him steadily, thoroughly. His free hand went to Aziraphale’s cock, which he stroked in time with his thrusts. Aziraphale was reduced to moan and thrust back against him, forward into his hand and then back into his cock, pressing from one source of pleasure to another with increasing desperation. As Crowley released his angel’s throat and dipped his head back down to suckle on the tip of his angel’s cock, he thrust harder, nailing his lover’s prostate in time with the flicks of his tongue, closing his eyes to focus on keeping control of himself, of not coming until Aziraphale did.

As his lover’s body began to spasm, he sucked harder, stroking the shaft of Aziraphale’s cock until his back arched and he whined, coming into Crowley’s mouth steadily for a few moments before he relaxed, limp and sated. Only once he was sure that he had wrung every last ounce of pleasure from the angel did Crowley let his control go, burying himself in Aziraphale over and over again, feeling him clench around his cock as he chased the orgasm that was building at the base of his spine. 

“Please,” Aziraphale whined. Crowley wasn’t aware he was even capable of speaking still and went to work fixing that, thrusting hard into his lover as he gripped his hips, slamming his body down onto Crowley’s cock until he was coming too, so hard that he pressed his face to Aziraphale’s shoulder and bit down hard enough to draw blood. He was aware of Aziraphale wailing as wetness splattered his stomach again, the third? Fourth? Orgasm Aziraphale had that night. Closing his eyes, Crowley let the sensation wash over him and finished a moment later, loose and exhausted, his head resting on his angel’s chest.

When he lifted it, he found blue eyes already gazing down at him, overflowing with love.

“Good?” he rasped and Aziraphale shivered pleasantly.

“Perfect,” he confirmed. 

Crowley thought about getting up and decided against it, snapping his fingers so they both were transported to Crowley’s bed, mess cleaned up, Crowley’s arms wrapped around Aziraphale and a blanket over them both. 

“Do you want me to pull out?” Crowley mumbled against Aziraphale’s spine, already feeling sleep pull at him.

The angel ground his hips back against Crowley.

“No, I like you there.”

“All right then.”

It took him a minute to gather words together. Sleep was already taking over his brain, slowing the functions and dulling the sounds.

“Good surprise?”

“Mmm,” Aziraphale agreed. “You’re wonderful, my darling. You know exactly how to give me everything I need.”

“S’good,” Crowley mumbled. He was only semiconscious now. “Got to make sure you’re taken care of.”

“And you do a superb job.”

“Mmm.” Crowley responded and it was the last word that Aziraphale got out of him for the night. The next sound was the smooth, easy breaths of a person fast asleep.


End file.
